Dinner and a Show
by QueenofDiamondss
Summary: Declaimer: APH does NOT belong to me! I wish... Anyways, I do not know where on god's great green earth this came from, but I really like howit turned out. Please Review so I can know if you like how it turned out as well.


Arthur had never been more frustrated than he was now. Why in the name of God and the Queen had he agreed to come over to Alfred's house again? Worse yet, why had he agreed to have dinner at Alfred's house? The younger nation would usually order fast food or something and put in a scary movie. Alfred always ended up terrified and hugging Arthur. This only ever served to drive Arthur insane. He was lucky the American had yet to get in his lap like he had when he was younger. It would have only served to make him aware of the Englishman's hard-on.

But tonight was different. Arthur was positioned quite comfortably on a stool in Alfred's kitchen. The house's owner was facing away from his guest, doing something at the stove that Arthur couldn't have named, let alone done by himself. But then again, he'd never been a genius in the kitchen. "Dude, can ya hand me the pepper?" Alfred suddenly asked, peering sky blue eyes over his shoulder.

Arthur was hasty to hand him the grinder. Alfred turned away, not making small talk like usual. It was ok for Arthur though. He couldn't have talked much while imagining that man in an apron (but not much else), standing in his own kitchen, and looking sexy as all hell. Arthur's face turned red and he clamped his hand over his eyes, willing the image away. Wow, he was a pervert! He'd raised this guy, and now he was thinking about throwing him down on the counter top an... Damn, he was worse than Francis!

All of the sudden, Alfred yanked off the apron. Far more clothed than Arthur wished, he turned and shoved his former father figure out into the dining room. "I'll be right back with the food."

"Wha?"

"It's a surprise. Now sit down and wait." With that, Arthur was left with no choice but to sit down in the immaculate, if rarely used, dining room, and wait for his old charge to return with whatever he'd been making. Left with his own company, the Englishman's thoughts began to run wild. The growing tent in his trousers did not help.

By the time Alfred returned, Arthur had gone through at least a dozen positions he wanted the blue eyed American in. Most had Alfred speared on Arthur's length and moaning his name. Alfred set a delicious smelling plate in front of him and asked, "Dude, you ok? You look a little hot."

"It's nothing. What is this?" Arthur snapped, shoving his dirty thoughts back. Damn the bloody git for looking so fuckable. He would have been glad to completely ignore dinner and take Alfred right there on the table. Laughing and oh so ignorant of the screwing he was getting in Arthur's head, Alfred said, "It's roast beef, Dude!"

Arthur looked down at the plate as if seeing it for the first time. Indeed, there was a well-cooked piece of roast beef on the plate, next to a tumble of carrots and mashed potatoes. Stunned, Arthur stuttered for a moment before he found his words, "What happened? We haven't had this since, since-"

Alfred sat down and cut him off, "Since before the war, I know. I just woke up this morning craving a good roast. Not your stuff of course." Arthur let the insult slide. After all, the last time they'd done this together, the younger man had barely been eye level with his elbow. Too long ago for him to remember clearly.

The two blondes ate rather quietly. Well, one of them did. Alfred punctuated each bite with bits and pieces of chatter, using the same bad manners he'd always had. Arthur just let him bounce conversation off him, nodding and "MmHmm-ing" at all the polite moments. Suddenly, Alfred jumped in his chair and shouted, "Sweet! Thanks, man!"

Arthur was rightly confused, "Hmm? What?" He had the sinking feeling he'd just agreed to something he was going to regret. He was right. When he hadn't been paying attention, the American had suggested a new horror movie for after they ate. And Arthur had agreed politely, too immersed in his thoughts to realize what he was agreeing to.

As soon as the plates were cleared, Alfred dragged him to the couch and popped the dvd into the TV. Arthur groaned, mentally kicking himself for not paying closer attention. The shock of dinner had deflated his hard-on but by the end of the hour, with the terrified blonde pressed against his side, Arthur would be going mad with lust. And Alfred only had one bed in the house. Bloody hell.

Just as expected, Alfred ended up in the crook of Arthur's arm, sniffling and crying and screaming, but refusing to turn it off. He was never going to admit that the movies scared him to death. But he'd never watch them alone. Arthur growled to himself and started to stand up, grumbling, "I'm going to go to bed now."

*WHAM!*

Alfred threw himself on top of the Englishman, holding him on the couch and crying "Please don't go! Please don't go! I don't wanna watch it alone!" Arthur was silent while his former charge calmed himself down. Too bad the throbbing in his groin wasn't going to calm down any time soon. And this time, Alfred was soon calm enough to notice the hardness.

Arthur couldn't help but notice that the blush across Alfred's face was even cuter than he'd imagined. "A-Arthur? I didn t know these movies turned you on." Arthur rolled over, pining his prey underneath him. He shoved the rational part of his brain to the back and grabbed Alfred's wrists, pining them high over his head. "It's not the movie, you dolt. It's you." Arthur whisper huskily in his ear. A second hardness between their pressed groins told him the other blond was getting just as hard.

Leaving his fear behind, Alfred suddenly leaned up, capturing the Englishman's lips with his own in a tentative kiss. That one kiss turned into a rough make out session, each fighting for dominance. Arthur retained control but he was groaning and grunting into Alfred's mouth as much as Alfred was into his. Letting go of his wrists, Arthur started undressing his captive, running his hands all over the taut, smooth muscles and small, hard nipples that made Alfred moan loudly.

But Arthur stopped short of unbuttoning Alfred's now very tight jeans. Instead, he moved back up his lover's body, licking every inch of exposed skin and sucking lightly at the dip of his belly button. "Ah! Aaah oooh Arthur!" The American moaned, tangling his fingers in the dusty blonde hair. Every touch of that skilled tongue made Alfred's skin tingle and prickle deliciously. He couldn't believe his best friend was now on top of him and, oh god that tongue! He left Arthur's hair and fumbled his way through getting the rest of their clothes off.

Arthur hissed as his trousers were forcefully yanked off, freeing his stiff length. He roughly kissed Alfred as the younger man grabbed at both of their members with one hand, rubbing them together and relieving only a fraction of the lustful heat that continued to build in their bodies. But it wasn't enough for either of them. Leaning down to his lover's ear, Arthur bit the lobe playfully and asked, "Won't you tell me what you want, love?"

Alfred bucked, fitfully trying to form coherent words. "I, ah! I want yo-aaah! I want you. In-inside me." He managed, quivering with anticipation. Suddenly, three fingertips rested on his lower lip and he was commanded, "Suck." And suck he did. Swirling his tongue around each digit, he took them into his mouth, imagining they were something much bigger and juicier.

A low groan rose over the sound of the movie. Arthur almost came right there from the feeling of Alfred's mouth on his hand and his hand on their cocks. Instead, he pulled away and inserted two fingers slowly into Alfred's hole. The man whimpered and fidgeted below him but a kiss quieted him, though he still had tears tracking down his face.

Mentally kicking himself, Arthur pushed his fingers in again, all three this time, and crooked one finger, scraping the young man's inner wall. Alfred jerked and screamed into Arthur's mouth. Arthur just chuckled and did it again, producing nearly the same result. Judging the American ready, he removed his fingers and positioned himself. "Getting close?"

Alfred groaned from the loss and twined his arms around Arthur's neck. Panting, he replied, "Do it fast." But the first thrust only sheathed Arthur halfway into the hot tightness. Alfred didn't scream this time, but the fingers digging into Arthur's back spoke volumes of pain. Soothingly, he told the blue eyed blonde, "It's ok. Oh God, you're so tight."

But Alfred wasn't in the mood for soothing. Gathering his strength, he shoved himself back onto the cock in his ass. Damn it hurt! But through the pain, there was also a seed of pleasure deep within him. And he was damned if he didn't want more of that pleasure.

It didn't take long before Alfred was trying to move on Arthur's cock. And Arthur obliged, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting himself back in. The thrusts were sloppy at first but they soon found a rhythm to move to. Grunts and groans and the sound of flesh slapping together drown out the sound of the movie still playing in the background.

Arthur suddenly pulled out and re-angled himself before he pushed back in, hitting something that made Alfred see stars. Sensing he was close, Arthur groaned, "I'm coming." And he began roughly pumping Alfred's cock, hoping to get the American to come before he himself did. Alfred was also close and another hit to his prostate sent him over the edge. Hot cum spurted up and splattered both of their chests.

Arthur came right after him, flooding Alfred's rectum with white hot seed.

When they both had come down from their orgasms, Arthur pulled out, rolling off onto the floor. On the TV screen, the credits started rolling, but it wasn't the end to their story. Panting heavily, Alfred stared at the ceiling and asked, "What brought that on?" Arthur reached up to smack him, growling, "You did, you git."

Really, he wasn't surprised things had turned out this way. But Alfred was. "Do you always get a boner when you're at my house?" Arthur looked up at him. He really was that oblivious if he hadn't noticed before now. "You dolt. Of course I do. Sick bastard, aren't I?"

"Does that mean we won t do it again when we go to bed?"

* * *

Edit: I'm sorry to the 100+ readers who read this before I realized that someone stole my punctuation. And I'm really sorry to the 5 people who reviewed that I had missed the punctuation. I don't know excatly how it happened but I am really sorry. I freaked out when I noticed it though. So here's the re-edited version with all the little quotation marks and things.


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